Walking
by Cynlee
Summary: Sometimes we resort to bribes to achieve what we want. Splinter is no exception, it seems. ONESHOT!


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Okay-- here's the thing-- I read a story by accident that I had been avoiding. The author is an excellent writer, and the story is extremely powerful-- so powerful that I was in a REAL depressed mood for quite some time today. Even now I cannot bear to think of it. AND when that happens, I have to write something to cheer myself up. So, here it is. A one-shot, and I'm SURE it's been done before, though I do not recall reading anything like it. Hope you like it.

TMNT are not mine, they are Mirage's. M&Ms are not mine, either, but I think I'll go buy some in a few minutes!

**Walking**

"That is the way my son! Come here! Come to father!"

The tiny tot stared at Splinter as if he had grown another head; he was standing, had been standing upright for all of five minutes. It had taken him all of ten minutes to finally get to his feet and stay there, and that had pleased the little one to no end.

NOW his father wanted him to MOVE? No way! His goal at the moment was to keep from falling back down to the hard floor on his little tail. Had the rat no idea how much that hurt?

He stood as still as possible, balancing with all of his might. He swayed a few times, only to struggle mightily to keep upright-- and he would succeed, and grin in triumph each time he had a near miss.

Splinter sighed. This one was the only one not walking yet. Indeed, he had shown the least interest in actually walking on two feet like his brothers, content to continue in the ever more difficult mode of walking on all fours. As his legs had mutated and grown, it was almost impossible for him to do so in a way more normal to a turtle; he had recently adopted the crawling method of human children, moving about on hands and knees, in order to get to where he wanted to go.

But as he observed more and more the frantic actions of the harried rat chasing after the other three who were walking EVERYWHERE, he had decided that it was time to join the game. He hated being left out of the fun!

So little by little he had willed himself to stand. Fall after painful fall on his poor little unprotected tail, he would sniffle and frown and cry and fuss-- and then try again.

And today, after nearly ten minutes by grown-up time but FOREVER to a baby, he had managed to gain his feet!

Wow! Everything looked so different from up here! The floor was so far away-- but the low table where sometimes Father put cookies and other treats was lower than him almost, and he would be able to reach for himself!

The rocking chair-- the only other real furniture in this little place they were living in at the moment-- was not so big looking to one who was standing on two feet! Wow! It had always seemed so high up! Maybe he would be able to rock himself from now on, when Father was gone looking for food!

"Come on, my son! Take a step! Walk to father!" Splinter, on his knees, arms outstretched in encouragement, tried again to coax this hesitant son to walk-- though he had no idea why. It had been hard enough keeping up with three very active walking baby turtles, who once they found they could take three steps were now running everywhere it seemed!

This small place, unused, unknown, deep in the sewers, was not going to be good enough for them for much longer. Now that three of them were walking, he needed to find a more suitable, more permanent home for them; one where they would be safe and could run all day and not escape into the sewers!

The only thing preventing them now from going farther than they dared was the fear of the dark. Though there were two electric lights burning in this part of the sewer, they were weak-- yet the turtles had stayed within their sight, afraid of the black beyond. But Splinter knew that would not last long. As they grew, so did their curiosity. He had already caught one actively trying to find a way to get to the light. Another had become fascinated with the little trickle of sewer water that flowed past this small "room", and he had had a devil of a time making sure that his son did NOT get into it.

The third was constantly chasing after the other two-- at first, Splinter had thought he was just following, but he soon realized that this one was trying to stop his brothers from going far-- it was nothing Splinter could prove, but sometimes he had missed one, and turning would see him toddling back towards him, the "protective" one leading him by his hand.

If all four could walk, they could follow him easier to a new place to live. Recently he had discovered a place that appeared to have been set up for humans to live in. He had not understood all of the words on the various signs, but from what he could piece together, it was a place to live in in case of danger. That sounded like the place for raising four active turtle tots!

They were getting too big to carry. He needed them to walk.

"Come on, my son! Come to father! Father has a nice treat for you!"

Now the little one's interest pricked up. Treat? Father had a treat?

Too late, Splinter realized that this was the wrong tactic-- but if it achieved his goal, what was the harm? He got to his own feet, and, followed by the eyes of this now curious youngster, he went to the sack where he had stored a special surprise for his four babies-- a large bag of M&Ms!

When he had been scavenging late last night, someone who had been late-night shopping had carried many, many bags to the basement entrance of her apartment, and had been so harried and overwhelmed with a fight between her own two sons that, by accident, she had left one bag of groceries sitting on the steps! Splinter had watched and waited, but after a bit, the lights were turned out in the apartment, the voices died down, and the rat, seeing his chance, had retrieved the bag. Inside was things that he had never dreamed of finding new: a large box of Band-Aids, some first aid ointment, soap, toothpaste-- and a large bag of the little candy-coated chocolates!

He had found a half-full bag once before, and the boys had been so amazed at the taste of the little colorful candies! He had remembered their surprise as they had first looked with curiosity and suspicion at these little round things, then, putting them into their mouths, had nearly started fighting to be the first to get some more from the little bowl he had poured them into.

Kneeling back down, Splinter held up the large, dark brown bag and shook it, making the chocolatey treats contained inside chik-chik in a pleasantly appetizing way.

"Come to father, my son! Come to father and have some candies!"

Step!-- Wobble wobble-- Step!-- wobble wobble arms waving wildly-- Step! Step! Step! Stepstepstepstepstepstepstepstepstep!

He lunged forwards the last few feet, and fell into his father's waiting arms, reaching for the candies even as he was being steadied by the rat.

With a sigh, Splinter opened the bag and allowed the toddler to plunge a chubby hand into the contents, grasping more than he could hold, and leaving a random trail of rainbow-colored chocolates littering the floor around them as the hand quickly made the trip to the eagerly opened mouth.

As he chewed and swallowed happily, he looked into his father's eyes-- and the realization that he had actually moved from one place to another, had actually WALKED to his father, finally registered in his sharp little brain. He froze in mid-chew, looking in surprise over his shoulder at where he had started from, then back up to his father's highly amused face. He gulped down the chocolate in his mouth.

"Walk?" he piped up, not quite sure but hoping he was right. "Mikanjio walk?"

Splinter nodded, vague tears in his eyes that he could not explain blurring his view of his son.

"Yes. Michelangelo walked. Michelangelo walked liked his brothers. I am proud of you, my son."

Michelangelo, thinking of this, suddenly smiled. He had walked like his brothers! He had not fallen on his tail and hurt it! AND he had gotten candy!

This was the best! At that moment, though he was just a toddler and could not formulate the actual thought in ways that adults would comprehend, Michelangelo knew that this was the best thing that had ever happened to him! As far as he knew, Life could NEVER get better than this!

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Mikey stared at the toilet, dreading this chore but knowing it had to be done.

In fact, if he had started earlier, and had not fought against it, he would have been successful and out of here by now.

But this was just too much...

"Come on, my son," the encouraging voice of his father sounded behind him. "Do what must be done, and then it will be over!"

Mikey sighed, sitting back. He knew that this was not impossible. But still... it was the TOILET! And a nasty, smelly toilet at that! HOW could his father expect him to do this disgusting thing?

Splinter sighed. He hated to resort to bribes, especially now, when they were so much older. But he also knew that if this was to be accomplished by Michelangelo, the Splinter would have to give in and use the "old trick" of old.

The crinkling sound of plastic paper, followed by that one of a kind, appetizing chik-chik reached the startled turtle's ears. He turned and stared, almost hypnotized, as Splinter held in full view a large, dark brown bag of the familiar tasty candies.

With a renewed will, Mikey turned around and faced the toilet.

Five minutes later, it was the cleanest, shiniest thing in the lair, and Mikey was happily on the couch, digging into the bag with his (and yes, he washed up first!) hand, not dropping one of the precious rainbow-colored chocolates.

Splinter, with another sigh, made a mental note to ask April for several more bags of the candy. He hated to resort to this method, but if he wanted that toilet clean-- really clean-- it was a small price to pay.

"Teenagers," he said, shaking his head, as he joined his son on the couch.


End file.
